When it comes to my body…

Today, I posted quite the revealing pic of me on insta. 
Though revealing is quite an exaggeration. All you can see are my abs, basically. But I’m not on a beach and I’m not wearing a swimsuit, so I guess the character of the photo is a little different from candid snapshots taken on vacation. Except, I’m not even sure. 

As I said, one could probably say that my photo seems like something very private, just judging by the fact that it was taken at home and not in a public place. But in contrast to that, it’s actually quite innocent. I mean even the lingerie I’m wearing consists of much more fabric than any random bikini. And still, I really hesitated and wasn’t sure whether I should post it or not. Tbh, I still don’t know if it was a good idea. 

But the more I thought about my doubts, the more I thought that I would have to post it. Just because I’m so tired of the double standard regarding male and female bodies. There are tons of accounts on insta that are dedicated to hot, bare-chested dudes. There are no less accounts that show women and their best ass-ets (couldn’t resist). But the difference is in the comments. As I mentioned in my last post, I looooove reading comment sections. And I can’t remember the last time I read any negative comment about some Abercrombie model flexing his abs. However, when I look at the comment section of a post showing a women displaying more or less the same amount of nudity, I can often find at least one that’s at least somewhat deregatory. Even, or maybe especially when it’s just emojis, you know eggplants and stuff.

Obviously, that’s neither the type of comments, nor the kind of audience I want to attract. And if I was queen of the world, I would ban those creeps to some far away planet where their skin would melt the minute they sat foot on it. But since I’m not in that position, I’m constantly second-guessing what I should and shouldn’t post on social media. Even if the content is actually harmless like my abs. 

It’s not the first time that I have these thoughts. A while back, I did a bunch of boudoir photoshoots (they’re the easiest to get if you’re looking for TFP or even paid photoshoots). I was very happy with the pictures. They were very tasteful and I actually loved how I looked in them. And I’m my own worst critic, so this means a lot. However, I never dared showing them to anyone but very few people. After all, these were pictures of me in lingerie, what kind of image would that create?

In an ideal world, people would recognize these pictures as what they are: A capture of someone who feels comfortable in their body. But in our world, we have eggplant emojis. And that’s why I never really showed these photos to anyone. 

But I’m sick of this BS. There are enough moments where I hate the way I look. So if there are days where I’m proud of body, I want and should be able to share that. Especially in 2018. Besides, I want women to finally feel comfortable expressing themselves in any way possible. That may or may not include corporeality. And even if I’m a big fan of aesthetics, I also know that it may not always be pretty – #tweetyourperiod – but it’s controversy and not consensus that helps you evolve. Why else would it be that in history, new forms of art were at first dismissed as dilettantism? 

Btw, I’ve noticed that it’s only the people with a very low self-esteem that who will attack others, verbally or even physically. But I guess that’s a different topic which I will maybe discuss to some extent in an upcoming blogpost.

But to sum up this article, I definitely agree with Emily Ratajkowski. If someone wants to get naked, let them, Don’t be a dick about it, don’t body shame them. And don’t make assumptions about their moral standards. 

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Moving and commuting

Lost time is never found again.

Benjamin Franklin

This week has been exhausting. Since I moved to Cologne, I roughly spend 3 hours of my day commuting. One reason is that my university and my friends are in Bonn, a town which is quite nearby, but if you don’t have a car (or a license) not exactly around the corner. Another is that my current workplaces are in Bonn as well. Since you probably don’t know the story: This summer, I started looking for a new place in Bonn, for personal reasons. I was rather optimistic and thought that one or two months should largely suffice to find a place, but it turned out to be more complicated than that. Tbh, the housing situation in Bonn is just crazy and people are clearly taking advantage of it. The amount of crappy shithole apartments people try to rent to you is insane. And so after I’ve annoyed everyone in my circle with my rants about how shitty the situation is, I realized, that I shouldn’t just concentrate on the area close by, but also consider other places. Besides, I haven’t exactly felt at home since I came back to Bonn – it’s quite provinical and I’ve always preferred cities to small towns. And even though Cologne is not exactly a metropolis either, it’s at least Germany’s fourth largest city. But more importantly, there’s stuff happening here! On my first weekend, I’ve already done more interesting stuff than I would have done in two months in Bonn. I went to series of talks, met up with a stranger, went to the Christmas market, checked out some art. I feel like Cologne is a city where I could actually see myself staying for more than just a couple of months. (To give you an idea, within the last ten years, I’ve moved exactly 10 times.) Besides, my new roommates are pretty dope. In short, I’m quite happy here. But of course, it would be too easy if that was all. 

So at the same time I was looking for apartments, I also had to get a new job. (The one I had before was on a fixed-term contract.) I was lucky. Instead of just one, I got two part time jobs, which I’m both currently doing. The only inconvenience is that not only they’re both in two different places, but also both in Bonn, which brings be back to the beginning of this post. In addition to that, I’m house- and catsitting at the moment, for a lady who has cancer. This one is in Cologne, but at the other end of the city.

Therefore, I’m constantly traveling back and forth from one of the apartments to one of the workplaces and also in between. And as you can imagine, it’s very time-consuming and also very exhausting. And especially this week, it’s gotten to a point where I felt that people would just randomly claim my time, without considering what a change of schedule could mean for me, how much planning ahead, and how much time lost it would be in the end. But fact is, it’s been three weeks it’s been like that. And since most of it is related to work, it makes me feel like I’m a slave to others, without a having a say on how I to use my time. Instead of being able to plan and take time for things that are important to me, I’m now always in reaction mode. It’s just exhausting and innecessarily time-consuming. And I can actually feel how it takes away from my quality of sleep and my general well-being. 

Now I know that my complaining comes from a place of privilege. I mean, at least I do have a job and a place to live, right? But the thing that really annoys me is that I’m not using all my capacities the right way and that I’m not reaching my full potential. I could and want to do so much more. And being in this situation where there’s basically no time for myself left just sucks. The only comfort right now is that everything about my current situation – or let’s say my jobs – is just temporary. I guess in the meanwhile, all I can do is to pack good books. 

Feeling fat and thin privilege

Did I ever mention that I love instagram? 😀 Well today, I came across a post of a fat girl eating chocolate (I think I can say that here, since she refers to herself as fat. Otherwhise I wouldn’t.) In her post, it said that “Fat is not a feeling, but an oppressed body type” and in the caption she went on describing how hurt she felt when some girl at Starbucks said she felt fat and that someone thin of course doesn’t know the “discrimination that comes from living in a fat body.” 

Of course, I had to check the comment section ( I LOOOVE comment sections) and found a comment which read “Thin privilege is real and those who have it need to be made aware.”

Sorry, but wtf?????  

First of all, thin privilege? I guess this statement adresses people who are not overweight, which probably is a majority of people. What does thin privilege even mean, seriously? That people won’t make assumptions about your health because of your weight? That maybe it’ll be easier for you to get matches on Tinder? Or that a company won’t have to make calculations on how many days you’ll be out of office because of problems that are linked to your weight? Tbh, I’ve never heard of “thin privilege” before. Tbh, I didn’t do any research on this either, this blogpost is just me reacting on a post I saw on insta, so I’m just writing down my initial thoughts. But it pretty much sounds like an overweight person complaining about not being thin. And in my opinion, there’s no point in doing so, it’s not like you can’t change your appearance.

Anyone can gain our loose weight, it just comes down to nutrition and exercise – and maybe some willpwer. (Except maybe if you have some serious diseases, like a thyroid malfunction.) 

Btw, the account I’m talking about shows nothing but an overweight girl eating food and bitching about discrimination. And I get it, it’s a pretty shitty move of people to think they have a say on what you should and shouldn’t look like. As I’ve mentioned in former blogposts, I’ve had the experience.
My family, people at school, boyfriends, photographers, strangers on the street, pretty much everyone has felt the need to share their opinion about my weight with me, as if it was any of their business. Or as if my job on earth only consisted in pleasing them.  I guess what I’m saying is that as long as you’re happy with yourself and the way you lok like, then there are no fucks to be given on other people’S opinions. However, if you’re using social media to passive-aggressively release your anger, then you might wanna change a thing or two about your lifestyle. 

No one is slave to their body. So saying stuff like “living in a fat body” as if you were trapped in it and couldn’t do anything about it is not a thing, or should I say excuse? It’s also not a reason to skinny-shame average-weight people. And of course. there are differend shapes and bodytypes. But morbidly obese is not a body type. 

Your body is there to support you and help you through  life. It allows you to move and do stuff. It’s the only ally that will sure stick with you your entire life. Therefore, treat it with respect and take good care of it. That’s all it’s gonna ask in return. And it has its way of showing you when you fucked up, if it’s your skin, your weight, or your health. So you might as well take it seriously.

And instead of finding excuses for being fat, maybe start working on reasons that hold you back from getting fit. 

PS: Feeling fat is a thing. Just to clarify, and I don’t care if anyone gets offended or not, it’s the feeling that you get when you were eating for three and you’re well aware of it/ can feel your jeans getting tighter already.



Get yourself a life

You probably noticed by now that I like spending time on social media, especially instagram. I also like stalking people I find interesting online – see where they live, try to find out what the odds are that we become best friends. And that’s why I always read people’s bios. Sometimes, I also stalk people who left really dumb comments on someone’s picture, just to know who the person behind the stupid statement is. I guess this little fact about myself shows that I should get myself a life, but this blogpost is not about me. It’s about how other people see and describe themselves.

A few days ago, I came across two profiles that were really cool. Very cohesive feeds, great style, just everything I find nice to look at and maybe even inspiring. So of course, I thought about following them, but before, I had a look at their bios. The first one said “Wifey”, which is not uncommon on instagram, as is “bride to be”. The second bio read “pursuing him…”, something I’ve also read a couple of times already. Yikes!

I didn’t follow either of them. Instead, I was wondering why (at least some) women constantly define themselves through men or the relationships they have. Similar mentions to the bios I described above are bios such as “proud mommy” or “dog mom”, where it’s all about motherhood, whether that’s to a dog or a kid.

So when you’re creating an account on a platform where you can let all your narcissism out, why would you make it about someone else? I get it, you’re very proud to have a boyfriend and you constantly need to remind people that you’re oh so happy in your relationship or marriage because you can’t even believe it yourself. You love your dog to the point that you can ignore the fact that the little perv spends most of the day licking its balls and wants your supervision when pooping. You’re probably about to edit a pic that shows your dog’s nasty tongue in your face in this exact moment. And yes, of course you love your kids. You love them so much that you don’t give a shit about their privacy,  because after all, your pushed them out of your vag and that’s such a freaking miracle. Like one that has never happened before. So why would you keep these things private?
And of course I can also understand that you want all that, the happy happy, picture perfect family, but somehow, it just hasn’t happened for you yet and so you want to make sure you spread the word that you’re single. Sure, you’ve heard many times that you come across as aggressive or even creepy, but they just don’t understand what it means to be a true romantic. I know, it’s hard to accept when your crush doesn’t like you back and that giving, ahem, … subtle… hints on social media will magically have him infatuated, I mean how couldn’t he be, your photos are so pretty! After all, it’s what the fortune teller told you. AND HOW COULD PEOPLE DARE CALL YOU DESPERATE WHEN YOU’RE CLEARLY NOT!!!

I know, I know, you’re a strong independent woman and you need no man or whatever. But darling, please act like it. It’s ok to put yourself first from time to time, even if that means posting pictures of your Skinny Latte instead of your dog. If you like latte pictures, go for it. People are tired of seeing your dog, anyway. Take time to do stuff that only benefits you instead of pleasing others. In short: Go get yourself a life! One that passes the Bechdel Test.

Triggering dots

 

You’ve probably seen memes like “Let’s eat grandma”, “Eat. You’re food” or “I find inspiration in cooking my family and my dog”, right?
Well, I’m OBSESSED with them, almost as much as I’m obsessed with typography and puns about kerning. Obsessed in a way that makes me wanna write the word in all caps. I’m the kind of person who, when receiving a badly spelled text, checks how close two letters are on the keyboard. I cannot go without correcting people when they mispronounce a word or when they’re just using stupid anglicisms that only exist in their imagination. I definitely judge people by the language they’re using and I don’t care how arrogant or how much of an asshole I can be when it comes to using the correct form.  In short, I’m a grammar nazi.

As you can guess, I take punctuation pretty damn seriously. A missing comma can drive me mad. That’s why, in my writing, I love using all sorts of punctuation marks in abundance. However, sometimes I wish people just would use them less. I’ll explain.

So yesterday, a friend texted me because she had a question regarding a paper. I didn’t reply right away because I had other shit to do first, but I stuck a mental post-it on my brain so that I would not forget to text her back later that day. It’s a system that works pretty well. However, she apparently couldn’t wait to hear back from me and so she sent me this:

?

And I was immediately fed up. By a single question mark.

There may be some deeper issues to this, but everytime someone sends me The Single Question Mark, I’m getting actually offended. Like how does this person dare to think I have nothing else going on but reply to their text? Well I got news for you honey, the world doesn’t evolve around you, calm the hell down. Also, even if our texts are sent instantly – unless you’re using Google Hangouts, which is the Internet Explorer of messaging services – that still doesn’t mean you’re entitled to an instant response. I’ll get back to you when I get back to you. And sending me annoying question marks won’t make me text you back any faster. On the contrary, they make me feel way more inclined to tell you to fuck off.

Another punctuation monstrosity I often see in text messages is the ellipsis. In books or any other kind of prose, even in dramas and poems, the ellipsis can be a great stilistic device. But in text messages the three dots are actually super creepy. Take these two phrases:

I like children.
vs.
I like children…

The first one: just a normal statement.
But the second… creepy as hell! If someone sent me a text like that, I’d probably call Child Rescue Service. The three dots make everything sound like a sleazy ad on Craigslist. So can please someone explain to me why people carelessly garnish their DMs with a countless amount of ellipses?

And yes, I agree that you don’t write text messages the same way you’d write a letter. Does anyone still write letters btw? Or postcards? If you don’t, you should. Analog is the new cool. Anyway, if you’re overwhelmed with punctuation in text messages, just use emojis… and you might have a 50% chance of not coming across as creepy.

 

PS: My latest website discovery while searching for a featured image was Digital Synopsis. If you love creative stuff like digital design and typography, this will be your new drug.

Club goin’ up on a Tuesday

I got to talk about my favorite anecdote today. And since I haven’t shared it here, yet, I thought I should do that. It’s about a club on a Tuesday. (It actually was a Thursday, but who cares, it doesn’t really matter.)

I had just moved from the 17th to the 18th arrondissement in Paris. If you’re not familiar with the specific characteristics of every arronidssement, the 17th is rather posh (at least the good side, meaning the part that’s not right next to the 18th) and the 18th is rather sketchy. Pigalle and Moulin Rouge are in the 18th. If you look at the history and architecture of Paris, it’s actually not surprising that Montmartre (which is the 18th) and its tiny dark side alley used to be the epicenter of all kinds of unlawful activities. But also or maybe for that exact reason, it was also the meeting point of great artists like Toulouse-Lautrec, Picasso, Modigliano, Van Gogh…

Especially the affiches of Toulouse-Lautrec are essential to Parisian culture. They were also the reason why I was and still am kinda obsessed with Montmartre. Of course it’s very touristy and somewhat artificial today. It’s basically just strip clubs and sex shops. However, during my time in Paris, there was nothing I loved more that strolling around the area. I know, it’s weird. But I’m a fan of Toulouse-Lautrec, so I wanted to soak in the atmosphere.

So there was this one day where I had no idea what to do with myself. I had just moved to the 18th, my apartment still was an unfurnished mess, I’d just spent the day on painting my room. All of my stuff was still in boxes and instead of a bed I only had a sleeping bag. It was a Thursday and I had taken the day off my work at Subway that day. After I’d spent the day painting the day painting, I wanted to do something fun. Unfortunately, all my friends either had to work that day or had class the next morning and were being way too responsible about that. Little fuckers.

So I decided to go take a walk in my new hood. I even had something to get from the pharmacy. (Awesome thing about Pigalle, there’s a pharmacy that’s open until midnight. I saved me from getting a conjunctivitis, once.) On my way to the pharmacy, I passed my all the strip clubs and sex shops. It was summer (and I was dressed like it) and all the owners were standing outside trying to lure people in. One guy outside of a strip club apporached me. I don’t remember exactly what he said, but I do remember that he was asking me if I’d want to work for him and therefore invited me in to have a look. I declined and continued my way to the pharmacy. But then on my way back from there, I thought: “Why not go in?” and so I decided that if he’d ask me a second time, I’d go in. Surprise, Surprise, he did. I even got a free drink. My boring Thursday had just gotten quite exciting. So I went to the strip club, on my own and still totally sober.

To be honest, it was one of the shittiest places I’ve ever seen. It wasn’t the fancy kind of strip club that Chuck Bass owns in Gossip Girl (gosh, I would have loved that!). No, it was just ugly and kinda sad. But I didn’t leave right away, it was way too interesting for that. I was introduced to the girls who worked there and sat down and had a chat with them. They basically told me that most part of their job was waiting. They’d arrive at 10pm, but apparently, the busiest time was from around 1 to 3 am. While we talked, two American dudes walked in. One of the girls danced for them. It was a Rihanna song. And wow was she amazing! I wish I could dance like that, it was amazing to watch. I was speechless when she told me that she learned it all on youtube. However, she didn’t get a big tip, even though her performance was awesome. I guess the shitty cheap atmosphere of the club made the guys act like shitty and cheap assholes. They left pretty quickly and then it was just the girls and me again. They told me about their lives and how they came to that place and I have to say, that night was one of the moments where I got a deeper understanding on what it means to be in that kind of industry. And just for the record, I don’t like the stigma around it. I hate it.

However, I very much appreciated the attitude of these girls. They were so warm and kind, it was amazing. I also liked that they had absolutely no shyness about their bodies. One girl showed me how her boobs could dance. Like she pulled away the tiny amount of cloth that was covering her nipples and let her naked boobs bounce with the rhythm of the music. You don’t see that everyday. And seriously, when it comes to body positivity, we should all be more like that.

Eventually, it was my time to leave. I could’ve stayed much longer, but I decided to call it a night after I’d seen literally everything. But I didn’t feel like just going home. So I stopped at a kiosk and bought a bottle of vodka and some diet coke before I made my way back to the appartment. (My friends were still being boring.)

I then spent the rest of the night watching The Rum Diary and take a sip of my Vodka Coke everytime Johnny Depp is having some of his drink. I got incredibly drunk that night and had one of my worst hangovers the day after. But so far, it’s one of my favorite anecdotes.

Weekly diary #5

Dear Cat,

I don’t feel like writing down everything that went on this week. All in all it was work and looking for a new place to stay. The latter ist pretty depressing, I feel like there’s absolutely nothing left, at least nothing I can afford. Something that makes me really mad are the ads for cheap rooms that are destined for male students only. Why the hell isn’t there something similar for women?

Anyway, I’ve been so busy trying to take care of stuff that I didn’t really think about getting anything creative done. I hope this will all be over soon. After all, I only need one person who’s renting a room. And then I’ll hopefully feel more inspired again.